


A day in Holiday hell

by Trixx



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Comfort Sex, Crack, Holidays, Humor, Kink, M/M, PWP, Rare Pairing, beaten by kids, burn it down, day from hell, evil reindeer, holiday kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 02:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixx/pseuds/Trixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Jim could only wonder if he’d crossed a gypsy in any life...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A day in Holiday hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PattRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PattRose/gifts), [Patt (PattRose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PattRose/gifts).



**  
  
A day in Holiday Hell  
  
**

__

_by Trixxanna_

 _Beta and art by Pattrose the magnificent_

 

Jim groaned loudly as he let his head fall forward, willing the thump against the hard faux wood surface to free him from this nightmare world he’d fallen into on waking this morning to find lube spilt over his alarm clock. His attempt to escape this vicious reality was impeded by the sharp front corner of his swing-line stapler; the hard metal edge defending itself from his attack by biting into his third eye with a wicked vengeance. And wasn’t just the way of things today? Not even noon and he was certain hell would be a reprieve from his life, as it was now. Blair would probably have some theory on ‘Karma’ or ‘Western societies downfall from humanity during the “holiday season” as a throwback to man’s primitive ways and poetic justice for the outlawing of the pagan celebrations that started this season in ancient times, long before Christian sects, and in more recent history, today’s mainstreamed corporate manufacturing of a season which was nothing but a media blitz of retail’s commercialization of joy, formatted as peer pressure in campaigns to sell their useless products and wares as well as their narrow point of views …”… and his headache was back with that long winded mental summary.

Maybe he could talk his lover into skipping lunch for a nooner at the loft? Jim could picture Blair’s begging gasps as he took him standing against the front door. Or better yet, against the post in the kitchen, with Blair’s leg wrapped around his waist and gravity…

That delicious fantasy was cut short by his desk phone’s banshee wail. “Ellison,” he all but growled into the receiver.

“Whoa there, big guy. Connor find those pictures Sally sent of you and Steven or something?” Blair jokingly asked at Jim’s less than pleasant greeting.

“Sorry, Chief, rough morning, ” he grumbled, feeling a bit better just hearing Blair over the static laden connection. “How’s the shelter fairing?”

Blair had left out before Jim had even awoken fully so the Sentinel had woken to an empty bed and a dick hard enough to shatter diamonds, not for the first morning since they’d finally brought their relationship to it’s new level.

A huge group of Blair’s students and associates had volunteered to help out the homeless shelter and food drive for those facing and enduring the hard times of the season. He’d barely seen his new lover in the last week as he and the others prepped for what was to be a huge turn out. With the volunteers rallying to get not only enough to feed those in the shelter but enough holiday boxes for the families and citizens of Cascade facing lean times, the little professor had been going full steam with his holiday crew. There was talk of the Mayor’s staff nominating the organization for some humanitarian award after they’d rallied over triple the donations in any previous year’s holiday time, all in just under a month. Blair had even managed to talk a number of off duty PD into volunteering as crowd control and support, so that everyone remained safe and happy during the event. No one could tell a determined Blair no and Jim wouldn’t, and couldn’t, deny Blair his philanthropic nature; even if it had left him with a non-existent sex life after a week of the most vigorous and passionate coupling of his life.

“Everything’s going spectacular,” his guide enthused. “I tried to call you earlier on your cellular but it never went through, everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just a bit of bad luck, Chief, ” Jim didn’t want to dampen Blair’s good spirit and tell him how his phone had met it’s demise while he was chasing the attempted car thief that had smashed his truck window outside of the coffee shop a few blocks from the precinct. He’d chased the guy down losing a shoe in the process only to catch the guy in an alley then slip on a patch of ice, busting not just the phone but his ass. The sludge he’d landed in smelled to high heaven and had saturated his thick sweater, as he‘d left his coat at the coffee shop.

He’d been able to wrangle the guy before he could get away again but had to drag him all the way back to the station since his phone was gone and emergency was probably already flooded with their usual surge of Christmas Eve calls. A short blonde delivery girl was leaving out of the station with a loaded dolly of parcels, cursing a blue streak so wide that his drill Sergeant would have blushed eight shades of crimson. She was in the process of degrading the snow’s lineage when she ran directly over his un-shoed foot, sending blinding pain directly through the half frozen appendage. Once he’d gotten the guy booked he had to go back for his truck with a uniform to get pictures of the damage and find that someone had stolen his coat and wallet as well. Thankfully he had left his shield in the truck with some back up clothes as well as some soap so he could scrub the smell, of only god knew what, from his skin. He’d have to burn the sweater or better yet dip it in acid (less chance of the smell to grow and mutate into some deadly smoke cloud).

It was only in line with his morning that the water heater for the precinct had broken at some point during the early hours, so exactly one minute after getting into the shower the water turned to pure liquid nitrogen raining over Jim. He’d spilled the lava the barista served as coffee on himself at seeing the guy smashing his truck window outside the coffee shop, so, now, he could attest to the horrors of both ends of the thermometer being painful. At least the cold had helped to keep the bruising on his face -the chip bowl’s swan dive from the top of the cabinets that morning- from swelling too badly. Though, it made his teeth chatter hard enough to give him a headache, and his ass and foot ache all the more.

“So, are you going to be able to slip away for a lunch date at the loft?” Jim asked a bit of lecherous husk sneaking into the inquiry.

“That’s why I was calling,” Blair hedged and Jim was already deflating, knowing he was about to receive a very kind no. “We’ve had a huge turn out already so we all agreed to stay and work through lunch to make sure things stay smoothly on track and everything is ready for this evening. That way we can all get home before midnight tonight.”

“So, you will be home tonight?” Jim asked trying not to sound too accusatory nor skeptical.

“Yep, I’ll be home…*static*… waiting with bells on,” Blair cheerfully answered with the barest hint of a purr.

“Bells, Chief?” Jim questioned with a private smile at a happy sounding Blair.

“Yeah, jingle bells, Jim,” Blair chuckled with more static bleeding in. “Love you.”

“Me too, and don‘t forget to eat something yourself,” he said sensing Megan watching him like a hawk from the other side of the room. They’d agreed to wait a little while before telling anyone aside from those they knew, that knew (Aura and Steven -who‘d stopped by unannounced and caught an ear full).

The connections died and he reached to put the receiver back in the cradle only to have the clunky base land on his battered toes with a nice heavy *thunk*. Pulling back from the pain on instinct, the phone receiver caught him in the crotch in it’s own descent from the desk. Half howling, half groaning, he fell back to his chair only to have it roll away and he land squarely on his sore ass.

 __

 _Yep, this was Hell._

*************************************************************************************************************

Taking pity on “Jimbo” after seeing what the phone call (and the phone itself) had done to the already battered man she’d agreed to treat him to lunch at his favorite burger shack. As they’d turned the corner it was to see two Cascade Fire Department trucks dosing the smoldering remains of the Wonder Burger. No one was sure how a two litter soda had fallen into the overheated fryer, they were all just thankful that everyone had escaped the astoundingly large grease fire without harm. The heartbroken Jim was lead away by his Aussie partner and taken to the deli she frequented. The smell of the place made Jim’s stomach revolt and when he attempted to persuade Connor not to eat the putrid food he was reprimanded physically by the 89 year old Matriarch of the delicatessen for speaking ill of her cooking. Her method of choice was striking him several times about the head with a ten pound brick she called a fruit cake with what had to be a forty pound -four foot long- furball, with claws that rivaled his own Jaguar’s, taking up the attack once the demented crone had began to lose some of her steam. The thing had to be demonic or at least possessed at it would not get off his back (the 89 year old woman or the forty pound feline, you take your pick!). The rest of the staff/family had apologized and asked him not to press charges or return, even as the woman continued to whack him with the brick with crumbs while the cat hissed and growled from it‘s cage.

Connor was able to get him out the door in his dazed state before her phone began to ring. With a bellow from Simon, Jim and Megan had been dispatched to follow the latest lead on a theft and drug ring that had been winging through the malls of Cascade for the past month. Too many big ticket items had vanished and the malls had finally let the police in on their loses when a security officer turned up in the morgue the previous weekend.

Jim was just happy not to be on call with the uniforms for the usual holiday mayhem of larceny, domestic disturbances and violence, assault and battery, and the other numerous calls from the depressed and obsessed holiday masses. He’d served his time on the beat and in vice, but after an hour of being in the traffic trying to just get into the packed parking lots around the mall area he was ready to deal with a crazed drunk with a shotgun versus the mother with triplets wearing the angel costumes who had gotten out of her van to bash the windows out of the car that refused to let her merge.

The mall had been packed to overkill when they’d finally gotten in to question a possible witness. Trouble was their witness worked at the cosmetics counter of the department store with the biggest last minute sale and discounts. Once they’d made it to the cosmetics section Jim was seriously tempted to shoot the women accosting him with nocuous fumes as he and Connor passed. By the time they reached Ms. Feliza’s counter Jim reeked of a bordello and was sneezing so hard that in his fit he’d broken the elaborate display they’d arranged for the most overpriced (though strangely the most subtle) scent in the entire store. The display and all six bottles of the three hundred dollar fragrance lay in ruin with a still sneezing Jim thinking of all the ways that Simon and Mrs. Belafonte, from accounting, were going to skin him alive.

Thankfully after Jim purchased all new clothes at the outrageous mall prices, surviving with all his limbs sore but intact -after getting the last sweater and jacket in his size away from two very vicious ladies who looked equally haggard and bloodthirsty- they’d cracked the case. The Santa’s were the ones behind the thefts; finding out that a drug lord was shipping his product in through certain appliances the Santa’s were sent in to retrieve the products after a cargo mix-up at the port. Still sneezing from the cling perfumes that had him itching in places he didn’t even recall the saleswomen hitting in their chemical agent attack, Jim didn’t really think through the recourse of their arrests.

He was seriously figuring on how many vehicles they’d need to hall in the mob of murderous demons that had sent him crashing into the giant festive tree (which had crashed into the faux workshop and snow dispenser which fell onto the scaled train which sent a reindeer into a frenzy) after which they promptly proceeded in their swarm to assault him with snow boots, fists, and shiny holiday shoes, screaming that he was “a bad man” and demanding he “let Santa go”. Maybe he should just arrest the parents that stood by for a good eight minutes before even attempting to pull the kids stomping on his head off of him.

After Santa was carted off (along with most of the elves) by uniforms, the half sized mob was called off and moved away from their target. Jim finally was able to hobble to his feet to the sight of an Aussie detective with curly hair flat on her ass crowing with laughter as the demon spawn actually began to sob and cry in chorus that he had ruined Christmas from their roped off distance. It was about then that the reindeer decided it was time to make a break for it as the flames engulfed the tree and the holiday village. The mall’s automated sprinklers kicked in rather quickly putting out the flames directly and soaking Jim to the bones. Connor, from her dry spot near the children and their parents, fell to the floor again in a fit of not so girly guffas at Jim’s drenched and soot covered body.

Jim could only wonder if he’d crossed a gypsy in any life as he slipped taking a header into the remains of the reindeer pin and the bucket of the sleigh pullers’ leavings.

*************************************************************************************************************

The day continued with the abuse and humiliation of his life in a great escalating order. It wasn’t the first time that he’d wondered why the city didn’t hire the news van drivers for Fire and Rescue as they beat everyone else to the mall to film him being the source of the children’s tear filled sobs and cries of a ruined Christmas. Out of all the cars in the numerous lots it was Jim’s Truck that the hoofed beasts took refuge in, leaving Jim a great surprise in the bed of the truck as well as a busted back window. Connor’s lunch had finally struck back and she’d lost it on the inside of his truck. The ride back he’d shut down his sense of smell completely, trying to keep from zoning as traffic once more grated his remaining nerves to dust. And if he never heard another chorus of “Rudolph” “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” or “Jingle Bell Rock” he could cling to his last stand of sanity. He’d had to endure another freezing shower to remove the stench of perfume, burnt plastic, reindeer leavings, and Connor‘s unwise deli selection. Having to settle on the sweat pants and tee shirt _borrowed_ from Simon’s locker, he made his way back upstairs trying to turn his sense of touch down along the way, from the itch of the clothes on his skin to the bruises of little feet that had tried to pitter-patter him into his grave he felt that feeling could go the way of smell.

On coming back up stairs as he was the source of countless jokes and ridicule. He’d still be finding Reindeer and Saint Nick themed paraphernalia in his locker, desk ,and the bed of his truck until some time in May. Reaching the MC’s bullpen he discovered another allergy that was of a great hazard, to not only his health, but to the blood cells in his cheeks.

Someone had skipped the usual faux hangings of mistletoe for the actual real-deal parasitic shrub. Having never been near the true to life plant in winter he’d not known how it would affect him or his day. It was more than a tickle or nasal aggravations as most peoples allergies were (no, life could never be so simple and of ease for the Sentinel). Jim’s senses seemed to dull and spike with exposure to the plant. Hearing would warble, then smell would go and return with fine accuracy. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to look Mrs. Belafonte in the face again as he overheard her plans for a truly swinging Holiday Party with the other Fine Wine Club members. Though he could thank her recounting of last years foray for killing the strange erection that was rising from the up down of his sense of touch in going commando in the sweats.

While at his desk he used Blair’s spare flannel shirt to help him adjust his senses as he finished the last reports on the mayhem that had broken out at the mall starting with an incident report on the rampaging soccer mom. Then there was the $1800 bill for perfume (not even taking into account to cost in repairs for the case), the case file and arrest reports for Santa and his crew, as well as the $20,000 in damages from Santa’s winter wonderland demolition and kindling.

He’d just finished the last of the reports -taking most of the late afternoon with Connor gone home (with food poisoning) and Blair not there to stop the computer from revolting every 90 seconds (Twice he heard it laugh as it shut it self down.)- and was printing hard copies of everything when he heard it, a groan. He looked about the deserted office and was about to shrug it off as his fluctuating senses catching something from downstairs when his smell locked in on the definite musk of two males mating. It took his mind a moment to catch up, but when it did his eyes nearly fell out of his head in shock. He immediately wanted to poor bleach into his ears to clean it all from his mind.

There were two heartbeats in Simon’s office, two familiar heartbeats, and a chocking amount of arousal that had always been a low key scent in the bullpen before. There was another muffled grunt and groan as well as the squeak of wood moving with a weight and force. Jim’s face was on fire; his senses and time seemed to have joined the computer in a revolt as everything slowed and focused on the happening behind the closed and shuttered door.

“Ohhh,” he heard what could only be Rafe’s low whisper roughened by the husk of need as he pleaded, “Simon, Please, need it now.”

“Almost,” he heard Simon’s flat deep voice whisper as if he were screaming through stadium quality speakers.

He looked at the printer willing it to hurry with the last pages. He could throw the pages in a folder and run for it if only it would spit them out already. The twin breathing growing more labored he heard the grunts and groans of each man in a two part chorus of union, then Simon’s voice came as if he were speaking right into Jim’s ear, “I’m going to spread you wide and make you beg for me to ream you, make you beg for me to take you.”

Maybe Blair would know of a technique or even a drug to wipe his mind of this entire day.

Jim ran straight for the bullpen’s doors willing to be chewed out… yelled at! for leaving his report un-filed and on the floor if it meant escaping a dirty talking Simon in his ear. Looking at how his day had formed thus far he should have known that his luck was non at that point.

The second he touched the doors to his escape they pushed in to hit his abused toes and then his face. Growling in pain and frustration he glared at whoever it was blocking his escape for the aural assault of one of his oldest friends & boss in coitus with a well liked co-worker on said boss’s desk. Whoever was impeding his freedom from this special layer of hell was about to receive a very pissed off ex-ranger who had been pushed to…

Seeing the Commissioner, and his main entourage of press, eyeing him like he’d eaten babies and defiled their mother’s he swore he could hear the devil hit the floor and roll over in a fit of laughter… Or it could have been Simon flipping a very eager Rafe over to slide in… Jim felt all the blood sweep to and drain from his face as pleaded with all the crazy named deities Blair had ever mentioned to open the Earth up and swallow him right now.

“Detective Ellison, _one_ of the men that I need to see,” the overstuffed bureaucrat barked. His spin doctor looked up from his PDA and physically cringed at Jim’s look then began furiously tapping away at the electronic device.

“Commissioner Thompson,” Jim greeted through a clenched jaw.

“Where’s Banks?” The pious man inquired not looking at Jim but eyes locking on Simon’s office.

As Jim followed his eye line and moved to block the man and his gaggle from moving any closer he cringed at the litany of vulgar demands and pleas (Simon’s commentary of what he was doing and was going to do to Rafe for teasing him for so long & Rafe’s affluent and perverse pleads in Italian) as well as the constant soundtrack of bodies in determined motion. He tried to clear his throat to and nearly let out a scream of horror on hearing Brian say he wanted to ride Simon hard and be put away dripping wet and feeling his own dick twitch.

“He had an emergency to handle and won’t be coming… I mean returning until it’s been dealt with.”

“An Emergency more pressing than one of his Senior Detectives making a true spectacle of the entire force for every major news crew in the city?” Thompson quipped with a glare.

“I don’t think word has reached him yet with everyone tied up tonight, sir, ” Jim retorted a bit louder than necessary as his hearing dropped off and his smell picked up.

The Commissioner turned on him and began a diatribe that literally fell on Jim’s deaf ears. Though as his anger grew Jim caught the other scents on the man and was about ready to make a break for a window and take the dive with glee. Thompson smelled of leather and latex and his PA add to that he could pick out the creases a ball gag had left on the man’s face and smells coming from Simon’s office he was ready to try his hand at flying when the mistletoe rolled the dice on his senses again. His vision dimmed as hearing came back up as well as touch.

“… after that long haired fraud someone would think that you would learn your lesson Ellison and go by the book about everything else!”

His skin felling as if it was being set on fire and chewed on was the only thing to save the commissioner from the punch Jim was about to level the hypocritical bureaucrat with.

“Sir, your wife and ex-wife have just been arrested at the Christmas ball for assault and battery against each other and Ms. Susan Moore from Channel 9 news.”

“Shit,” Jim heard the man whisper. “This conversation is not over Detective,” he said then the group was talking about different methods to get his mistress and wives out of the lime light and Ellison’s debacle back on the block. “Kill the spin that he was saving the kids from a drug dealing Santa, and get Susan that diamond necklace she kept hinting about right now…”

Jim reached for Blair’s shirt and breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to turn all his dials back to normal. As soon as the exhalation crossed his lips he heard Rafe howl Simon’s name.

Jim would have to apologize to Davidson another time for nearly knocking him out with the stairwell door but he could not wait for the elevator to escape the equivalent of Stevie and his wife making hardcore porn before his eyes.

*************************************************************************************************************

As Jim trudged along the hall to the loft he wondered who in heaven he’d offended and how, because he was ready to grovel for their forgiveness if it meant an end to this journey through hell. He’d made it to the lobby of the station before once more being shown that he had no sway with even the word luck. The short blonde with the superiorly crude vernacular of the world and her dolly of pain nearly got his foot again and when he thought he’d escaped her one of her parcels fell from the dolly directly onto his previously uninjured foot. The tight smile the girl threw him was more of an icy glare as she picked up the parcel inspected it put it back atop the stack then proceeded to curse as she moved further into the lobby. After that run in he’d made it to his truck only to find that whoever was kind enough to cover his windows with clear plastic to keep the snow from coming in had not thought their method through. It had taken his knife and a lot of unwrapping just to get the driver’s door open. Traffic was still abysmal and four blocks from the house the city water truck next to him had somehow dumped it’s load flooding his cab and bed in icy water. He’d parked the truck and walked home from there.

He put his key into the lock turned it then gingerly opened the door , the smell and warmth of home wrapped him as he moved in. The lights were off but the place was aglow with firelight.

The fireplace was going strong and dozens of candles sat on the tables brighter than the artificial lights on the tree. But the brightest and most warming sight was that of his guide laid before the fireplace golden creamy skin painted with the firelight that danced over his nude body. No, not fully nude; there about his neck was a leather collar covered in shiny red and green sleigh bells that jingled lightly as he moved from a sprawl to a kneel. Wrapped around the base of his fully hard cock was a small festive bow that read “Do not unwrap until X-mas”. The smell of a warm happy Blair and the earthy warmth of pine and leather mingled to a very arousing spice for the air that marked the Holiday and home. Blair stood and closed the distance between them in a few steps that made the bells around his neck jingle softly with the pad of his bare feet over the floor.

“Chief?”

A whispered shush was all Jim received as Blair leaned up to kiss his chilled lips. The steady beat of his guide’s heart brought a centering focus to his being. The caring way in which Blair divested him of the sodden clothes sent a warmth of through him that spoke of devotion and love, pulling at his heart all the more, just as the sight of his mate had lit and pulled his arousal. In silence his love worked him free of the cold clinging clothes, then led him by the hand to the candle lit bathroom. The warm water filled the small room with a deliciously heavy air of steam that smelled of Blair and clean warmth.

Once Jim was reclined in the water his beautiful and adoring lover treated him to true pampering; washing the day from not just his body but his soul as his hands caressed the scented water from the top of his head to the soles of his aching feet. Jim had tried to pull him into the tub as well, but Blair only continued in his silent devotions kissing everywhere that he cleaned above the warm depths. With each touch and moment of only their silence filling the air Jim’s decimated nerves began to restore. The steady beat of Blair’s heart a soothing balm for his own; the echoing of water, fire and their breathing aiding to ease the tense string of his body.

With a warm cloth laid over his eyes he drifted in a sea of tranquility barely hearing his Guide leave the room and return with a tray of nourishing offerings. He felt as a King with the man he loved more than life itself feeding him morsels of fruit, meats and cheeses, by hand and mouth. The more he relaxed the more he found the day bleeding away and being replaced by Blair. Time didn’t really exist anymore and as the water began to cool Blair guided him from the tepid tub and into his grasp as he dried Jim’s body. Kisses were dispensed in irregular intervals all over his body, seeping into his soul.

With Blair once more leading him, he found all the candles moved to the stairs and above. They ascended the golden path to their bedroom ensconced in an ethereal glow. With slow gentle kisses and dancing fingers Blair laid him over the bed. Laid out on his front Jim was treated to the sensual delight of a warm oil massage. His lovers talented hands knowing just where to be tender and firm in turn as he pressed his body along Jim’s. He felt worshiped by Blair’s love and attention. No one but Blair had ever catered to him so thoroughly, truly devoting themselves to not just his pleasure but his soul.

It wasn’t long before the half hardness he’d been sporting since the tub became a leaking pillar of need. Floating in a serene cloud of warmth love and arousal he found himself on his back being driven to whimpering need as Blair worked; hands and lips finding erogenous zones that were never there before. “Blai..” he tried to say voice gone low and husky with his peace and arousal.

His lover shushed him as he worked his hands from Jim’s calves slowly higher. Jim writhed as Blair worked a nerve behind his left knee, his cock slicking his tensing abs as a new pulse of pleasure tingled over his spine. By the time Blair’s breath and fingers ghosted over the crease of his outer thigh Jim was jerking and coming without his dick being so much as breathed on. Blair’s loving and devilish grin greeted him as he caught his breath again. That wickedly talented appendage, known as Blair’s tongue, snacked out from behind the plush lips to lap at the seed splashed over Jim’s quivering stomach and chest. Everything was finely tuned, put into an acute contrast and clarity as it did every time with his guide. No one had or would ever bring him to such soaring heights as Blair; no one could even dream of mimicking the climb let alone the summit.

Blair kissed him deeply banishing all semblance of thought and stealing his very breath with the possessive invasion. The kiss seemed over all too soon as his body had recovered and was in need of more, as his renewed erection showed. Blair smiled coyly as he moved back down Jim’s body placing licks nips and kisses as he went.

Soon enough the curly haired doctor stood at the end of the bed, lit by the hollowing candles spread around their den. The light dancing over skin slightly sheened with oil and a cock leaking in it’s binding he was a timeless vision of sex and beauty. His hips began to sway to a beat that only Jim could hear and Blair could feel. The swaying progressed into a winding dance that had the thought of veils flitting in the back of Jim’s mind as the dancing man held his complete attention. The bells tinkling a nice counterpoint to the beat of Blair’s heart, like the song of drums. When Blair turned his back to Jim shimmying and gyrating, Jim caught a glint of light in a place now claimed as Jim‘s alone. There in Blair was a solid clear plug made of glass, by the way the candle light danced over and through it. Jim was ready to pounce when his eyes caught Blair’s sultry blues thrown over the smaller man’s shoulder as he popped his hips. There was a hunger and feral possessiveness to that stare locked on him, that sent shocks of need through Jim. He’d been the focus of that same look only a few short weeks prior when they’d taken their relationship to it’s true destination; it was that same look Blair had given him just before he’d pounced had spread the sentinel out over the table and taken him for all he was worth.

Now, those blue rimmed pools stared him down as his mate crawled up the bed, sliding his body over Jim’s, marking him with scent and filling Jim’s sense with a thrill. He was under Blair’s mesmerizing spell. The soft jingle of the bells continuing as Blair’s body writhed in it’s ongoing dance. With one hand trailing over Jim’s oiled skin -nails lightly scratching sensitive nipples and hidden points of delight in their downward journey- Blair’s other hand moved behind himself. Jim could feel the waves of pheromones like the pulse echoing between them rising in the tempo of their souls. To see Blair pull the elegantly tapered glass plug from himself sent a spark of jealously and a deep thrill of pleasure through Jim. The wandering hand returned from nowhere to grip Jim’s straining cock with a warm oil slick grasp pulling a groan from him. Blair licked and bit his throat demanding he not to speak, just yield. Jim tilted his head in submission to his guide and the pleasure of Blair’s slick but ever tightening strokes.

Blair continued his ministrations until he had Jim a whimpering mass of need beneath him. Straddling the larger man’s hips Blair waited for Jim to meet his stare before impaling himself on the man’s thick cock. They both groaned at the pleasure of their joining. It was like coming home, so much love wrapping around them that nothing else could penetrate it. This was only for Jim as he was only for Blair. And in their joining they were the only two beings in existence, merging to make the only soul.

Like in the dance, Blair’s rhythm in this began with a slow tempo. Jim’s hands moved up his lover’s thighs to his hips feeling the power beneath. The pace moved forward, Blair continuing his sensual dance -moving up and down as well as in a winding circle. Hands moving over Jim and Blair’s own body as if they were twenty instead of only two. Jim’s hands moved to feel the strength of Blair’s core in action. He loved feeling the play of that pale golden skin over muscle and sinew that no one else ever saw. Blair’s hands covered his moving back down over hips and thighs to rest on the linens. Jim wanted to protest but only whimpers came forth as Blair tightened around him with purpose. Jim’s hands remained clutching the bedclothes… until Blair upped the tempo once again. Bending back as he rose in an angle that not only pushed Jim to a new delight but allowed him to reach back and stop Jim from falling over the edge until he wished him to.

With his orgasms stopped just in time Jim’s hands moved to Blair’s hips as his own began to snap up driving himself deeper and faster into his mate. Blair tightened his grip around Jim’s cock and balls further stopping the sentinel mid stroke.

Jim looked up into the dark orbs of the man atop him.

No words passed Blair’s lips but the order was clear in the way his hands and eyes commanded Jim with the intensity of their love and devotion. His large hands were laid back to the bed, though he yearned to hold his Guide’s warm tantalizing hips - to feel and support his lovers movements, to feel the rhythm of their love- but Blair’s demands rang clear in the haze of comfort and passion.

 __

 _Relax and enjoy the ride. Let my love hold you. Let me worship you. Let me take away everything. Let me own you and give you all of me my love, my only love, my love forever._

Jim yielded to Blair once more, letting the man heal him and take him by taking him into himself.

Soon enough near to all the candles had guttered themselves dimming the light to barely nothing, though neither Jim nor Blair cared as they strove on, reaching higher and deeper into their love, joined forever by the heart of their soul but merging in physical. Sweat covered them until it poured off Blair in rivers sliding and raining down on and over Jim to pool in the linens beneath. There breathing loud ragged gasps to fuel thundering hearts and pumping hips. Blair pulled Jim’s hand to the sweat sodden bow and let him pull it’s tail, and as it untied sliding around his cock and tightly drawn balls they both spilled, Jim deeply into Blair and Blair over the both of them. Mouths open but no sound coming from either man.

Jim had just enough strength left to pull Blair down onto his chest before he fell the other way. As blackness began to cloud over his vision he heard Blair mummer into his neck, “Merry Christmas, Jim.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually ship Simon/Rafe though it's very rare.
> 
> Originally written for the 2009 Holiday MyMongoose e-zine at Patt's invite.


End file.
